amnesiacbjd

[amnesiacbjd]

Day 62: Thrifting with Cle-O

Aeila and I are at the flea market trying to refresh our memories with stuff that other people held dear once. The people of this town are now used to the sight of Aeila walking about, but of course not everyone had the chance to get to know her. Children are particularly interested in her. They keep their distance, but it’s not far enough away that we can’t hear their giggles. A particularly brave little boy even touches Aeila’s foot tentacles from his hiding spot underneath one of the wallpapering tables. She jumps in surprise, but when she sees the kid scramble away she says “At least buy me dinner first!” leaving him with a face so red that it makes his friends laugh out loud.

There’s a spot on the fairgrounds where the clothing vendors concentrate. I spot one unmarked van from out of town trying to offload dodgy, low quality wear and potentially knock-off purses, belts and wallets. But it’s mostly older citizens with actual taste letting go of some prized possessions that they now feel too old to wear. Cle-O has told me about this spot and it doesn’t take long to find her, but today she’s there with someone I haven’t met yet. She has pastel pink hair that somehow doesn’t look intrusive and a pretty, white, flowy summer dress with stylized leaves as a pattern. She wears a pink sash as a belt that perfectly matches her hair. After hugging Aeila and me, Cle-O introduces us. “Aeila, ___, this is Lily. She has impeccable taste! She must have inherited it from her grandma.” Lily is flattered, but takes it in stride. “So nice to meet you!” Says Lily. She shakes my hand with both of hers. After she does the same to Aeila’s tentacle hand she goes: “I’m sorry but I have to say: I would love to shop for your complexion.” Aeila grins wide. Lily continues: “You are regulars at her movie night, right?” 

“Right! I hope our rowdyness hasn’t kept you from coming.” I say. Lily explains: “No, no. I’m kind of new in town. Cle-O helped me offload my Nanna’s old stuff and got me interested in the place. This flea market is a goldmine!” then she adds “Proverbially. I’m not here to get rich. I’m also looking forward to seeing all of the other sights around here.” While we are talking, I spot Bee-A making her way through the crowd, on a path towards Cle-O as directly as possible. She is holding an empty, large tote bag. When she arrives next to us, Cle-O hands her a similarly large tote bag, almost bursting with her bounty from this trip and takes the empty tote bag. Wordlessly, Bee-A turns and walks the other way with the large bag over her shoulder. Playfully, Lily accuses Cle-O with her fists on her hips: “Oh, that’s cheating!” - “The perks of telepathy.” retorts Cle-O. “Lily lives in the next town over. When her grandma passed, she let me have her possessions for free!” Explains Cle-O as we make our way through the aisles. “Now she is planning to open a boutique there, right?” - “Don’t blow up my spot here, haha! It’s still in early stages. I’m still working on a catchy concept. A mix of second hand and tailor, is what I’m thinking. Maybe with a cafe? I also have to find out how to go into business by myself.” Lily seems to know a lot of the vendors posted up here. As we walk the grid, she shares a bit more of her story with us. She, too has suffered from the amnesia, but because she was a little further from the island at the time, memories come back to her more easily.

Lily spots clothes and accessories that barely stick out from under large piles, holds them up to Cle-O, Aeila or me and they all would look splendid on us. I am hesitant at some of the more extravagant pieces since I’m not eager to stick out and prefer casual wear, but the others encourage me to take some home. Aeila and I fall in love with Lily’s quirky personality and unique, artistic world view. “Our pixie dream girl” as Aeila describes her later when we are alone again “but with her mania under control.” The millions of tchotchkes on display have triggered as many memories and by the time we get home, we are mentally exhausted.

Story archive and more photos on amnesiacbjd.moritzk.com

[amnesiacbjd]

Day 65: Night shift at the B-Ball court

I can’t find A-Va all day. I give Cle-O a call. It’s curious: Of course she doesn’t have to pick up a phone. She answers calls in her head without making a sound on the outside. She could even be mid conversation with somebody else and no-one would know. Anyway, she says that A-Va has moved north and will probably not return until tomorrow. If it’s about the ghost hunt, she volunteers to come along. She even has a camcorder with infrared night vision! Word must go around fast because I don’t remember telling her about our plan. Cle-O has told me before: “I’m a lover, not a fighter.” but I bet she could still kick anyone’s ass so I say it’s OK for her to come along. Plus, she has a sense for drama and I think she wouldn’t spoil the cozy spookyness for the others who might be into that.

“Oh hello, who’s this?” Says Zara when we meet up and she sees Cle-O for the first time. “That’s Cle-O…” I don’t know how I should introduce her “one of my new mainland friends.” I say, regretting this nothing-answer. Cle-O picks up immediately with an appropriate retaliation for me and amusement for the others: “With benefits.” She adds. I’ve never been more embarrassed because there's a few chuckles and “Oooh”s. Though, quickly I realize that there’s no ill will because Enzo, one of the more intimidating, jock-adjacent guys pats me on the back and quietly goes “Good for you, dawg.” in a genuine tone. Cle-O holds up her camera: “This doesn’t have the best resolution, but it’s got night vision. Like, the green looking infrared one.” - “Sick!” Zara is excited, getting into the ghost hunting mood. “Yeah, but the batteries are old now and don’t hold much of a charge anymore.”

Sarah is also here and politely introduces herself to Cle-O. She decided to come because she knows how to work her camera. She understates the capabilities of her camera because she doesn’t want to be braggy: “This goes up to like, ISO 64.000 so… should be pretty good at night!” It’s a modern looking digital camera with a smooth, black plastic body. Not one of those gigantic pro ones, but the lens looks fairly expensive. I give an exaggerated nod with an approving face. The other homie Eddo asks Cle-O: “I heard you can detect the presence of other robots.” - “Yes. Not as well as A-Va who seems to have a longer range than I do, but basically I can find all robots who want to get found.” Cle-O’s answer makes Enzo and Eddo look puzzled. Cle-O explains robot signatures and that hiding one’s signature is considered impolite or even nefarious. 

We are sitting on the far side of the courts, backwards on the bench, looking out at the trees, where the photos were taken, but we don’t see anything. It is now fully dark. At about quarter past ten, the group of players that was there decides to go home and we start considering our chances. “It’s probably there to watch people play.” Thinks Eddo out loud. “We could play three on three, but then we couldn’t watch for the shadow.” Eddo produces a ball from his duffle bag. “How about two on two and Cle-O and me keep watch.” Suggests Sarah. It’s late and Zara and me look at each other like we don’t really want to play basketball right now, but for the bit, we get up and walk towards the hoop. “Streetball. So we don’t have to run so much.” I say. “OK.” Answers Enzo. We briefly freshen up on the rules and team up. Enzo and Zara against Eddo and me. 

As we pass the time and get winded, we see Sarah and Cle-O with their cameras on their laps, chatting it up, starting with camera stuff and eventually more general topics. Thankfully, the E’s do all the work on the court but occasionally, they pass to us less experienced players to have a go. Zara even lands a shot on me because my blocking game is not the best to begin with and I’m especially hesitant to bother what to me is a teenage girl, even though she’s probably in her twenties. It’s now almost eleven and we’re all tired. We have almost forgotten about our little ghost hunt. “Hey Cle-O!” Enzo yells, “Can we see you hoop?” She gets up, hands me the camera and answers “I wanna try some free throws.”

Sarah turns around on the bench, halfway facing us and halfway the trees. Cle-O posts up on the free throw line and Eddo hands her the rock. Her heels look a bit out of place on the basketball court. She grabs the ball, shifts it between her hands a couple of times and assumes the throwing position. The first throw hits the backboard perfectly center, but a little bit too high, bouncing the ball directly back into her hands. The second ball goes in with a bit of bouncing on the rim. “Okay, okay.” Says Eddo, realizing her capabilities. “How many tries until you get a swish?” Two more tries. Cle-O lets out a little giggle, having fun perfectly calibrating her throws for this court and ball. She takes three steps back. Swish. Another three steps. Swish. We look on in amazement. Now she is standing on the half court line. She winds up, but the same moment the ball leaves her hands, her head whips around. The ball goes wide of the backboard, hitting the fence just below the top, preventing us from having to go around to find the ball in the darkness.

“Gimme the camera.” She moves towards the far side fence and almost rips the camera out of my hands. Sarah turns on her DSLR, points it at the trees and, facing away from us, asks “What is it?” Cle-O positions herself next to her, camera up to one eye. “I thought I felt something. Someone.” Zara, Eddo, Enzo and me approach slowly, trying to focus on the treeline. We are still standing in the circle of the closest lantern which makes it hard to focus on the dark trees. “Even if you really want to, it can be hard to suppress all of your traces.” Says Cle-O, still scanning the horizon. “I think they slipped for a second.” - “So we’re looking for a robot.” Enzo mutters. “It could still be someone else, but all of the other robot signatures have not been moving around much in the last couple minutes.” clarifies Cle-O.

Looking the same direction, Zara and I quietly shuffle through the little door in the fence in order to get out of the light for our eyes to adjust to the darkness. Here, there are a few scattered bushes and low trees that have withstood decades of abuse by teenagers. Towards the north, where we are now focused, the trees grow taller and denser, lining the multi-purpose-field next to the court. My eyes are now adjusted to the dark a bit better and the residual light allows us to see the edge of the field in better detail. It has become quiet. So quiet that I hear a sound like two thick branches rubbing on each other from my left. I turn to look at one of the trees about fifty feet to my left. It takes a second for my eyes to focus on a shape that I find unusual for this tree. It looks like there’s a tarp hanging from one of the branches. But only when I see a glistening, black shape protruding from under the tarp I realize what I’m looking at: There’s a humanoid figure standing in the tree, wearing a dark cloak where only the lower legs and feet are visible. I breathe in sharply and Zarah follows my gaze. She lets out a surprised yelp and that sets the figure running. They must have hoped that we wouldn’t notice them, standing there absolutely still, practically invisible.

Almost inaudibly, the figure slips backwards, landing on the ground with a soft thump that I feel more than I hear it and ninja-runs away with the softest thump thump thump thump. Gone. “Did you see that?!” Zara squeaks with more enthusiasm than fright. The others come running over, asking almost the same question: “Did you see it?” Zara and I describe what little we have seen and heard. Somehow, Sarah has taken 40 pictures in the span of about two seconds. As we look through them, we find one that sort of resembles the shape we have seen. You can see the trees in sharp definition, and a human-sized blur with the rough color we have seen. There’s even a little specular streak where the legs would be, but without our testimony, this image could depict anything. Zara hugs Sarah, trying to lift her in celebration. “We’ve seen it! It’s real!” 

Cle-O only has ten seconds of unusable footage that starts after Zara’s yelp. Mostly green streaks and the fence messing with the exposure. What she does have is secondary sensory data. The moment of discovery must have caused the robot a bit of stress that could be measured as a subtle change in the magnetic field which Cle-O could perceive because she was close enough. It’s not as good as a signature, but now we have a pattern that might help identify this specific robot, were we to encounter it again. The boys are a little bummed out that they neither saw anything nor contributed to the documentation, but we all let them know that we were honestly glad they were there.

On the way back to town we share our theories and as we split up, each of us is thinking about the next steps.

Story archive and photos on amnesiacbjd.moritzk.com

[amnesiacbjd]

Day 64: Rumors of a shadow

After breakfast and before I go to work, I go up to Aeila’s door and give it a knock. When she doesn’t answer I figure that she has either gone to work already or that she has stayed the night at Cle-O's which I figure was just a matter of time.

My workday is relatively uneventful, but during lunch break I hear some people that I know from the basketball court talking about a strange figure that has been rumored to show up there at night. I don’t hear the whole conversation so at that point it might as well be an urban legend or a movie they were discussing. When I’m just about to go back, Aeila shows up with her lunch and I spend another ten minutes with her. She teases a saucy story about what happened at Cle-O’s and this notion stays with me for the afternoon.

In the last two weeks I have become confident enough to jump in and hoop a few minutes here and there after work. In the workshop, nobody’s upset if I wear sporty clothes so I don’t have to change. I’m not the one to pick first for your team and it’s hot enough that it doesn’t take long for me to be done, so I spend more time sitting at the sidelines of the local court shooting the shit with the locals (or rather listening to the locals shooting the shit and chiming in occasionally). Here, too, the legend of the phantom basketball spectator is making the rounds. Zara can hear ghost stories from miles away, comes over from the other court where the younger crowd is and is fascinated by the tales. Later, a guy shows up with claims of having photographed the shadowy figure. 

Indeed, the grainy images depict the same court that we are currently sitting at, only at night with the charming, yellow lighting that turns this place into an island in the darkness, because only one side of this area is close to buildings and a lot of them are not inhabited. The noise of this cell phone camera is particularly pronounced, and this guy must have stepped out of the lights in order to be able to shoot this photo, but it appears that there’s a humanoid, cloaked figure sitting in a tree nearby. You can only tell if you compare the photos, because one alone would only show you a mess of grey artifacts that resemble the sparse foliage of the vegetation around the basketball court. He says that nobody was brave enough to move closer and even when one of them looked like he might go investigate, the figure quickly and quietly disappeared.

“Sarah has a camera that works pretty well at night. I can bring it tomorrow.” Suggests Zara, enthusiastic about a ghost hunt. “What if they are dangerous?” I think out loud. The others are a little upset at me shooting down the idea, but also realize that possibility. Zara turns to me “Well you could come and bring your robot friend. She can take anyone, right?” She must mean A-Va because I don’t think she’s seen me with Cle-O. “Good idea. A-Va might even be able to tell if that’s a robot or not.” I respond. “Deal. Then we meet here tomorrow at… 9:30? It should be getting dark at that time. I’ll bring my gear.” States Zara.

When I get home, Aeila is waving to me from her little balcony. She comes down to my apartment with a container of dinner she has saved for me and tells me about her night at Cle-O’s. I’m a bit baffled by her directness and honesty, but thinking about it for a while, I don’t think I would have it any other way. That said, I talk to her about how I’m a little uncomfortable with her telling others details about our intimacy and she is very understanding.

[amnesiacbjd]

What does Cle-O do for a living?

At night, Cle-O can usually be found at her compound. She likes to entertain guests and it’s important to her to be able to receive people, even unannounced. Occasionally, she goes clubbing at night, leaving her pad unattended. I don’t think anyone would try to break into her place because A) She has more friends than enemies, B) Nobody wants to incur the wrath of a robot of unknown strength and capability to find your ass and C) Even though it’s lushly decorated, there are few conventional valuables there, apart from maybe rare machinery and science supplies in her workshop.

But how does she get all that stuff? Well, Cle-O has an uncanny talent for knowing whenever people need to unload stuff. Like when they move, when a family member dies or when they just want to re-decorate. Think about it: don’t you have stuff you want to get rid off? Imagine somebody reading your mind and showing up exactly when you do. She can get a lot of stuff for free that way. Sometimes people even pay her to get rid of stuff. With the extra cash she can pay for some more rare or specialized things. 

She also knows where people are that need things. Refugees from the island find themselves without connections and without supplies for daily life. Cle-O has made so many people’s days by showing up with lightly used clothing, children’s books, a crate of day old bread rolls or a washing machine, more often than not free of charge. If she takes money, she takes care to not take more than she feels is justified but she also knows better than to refuse a tip. Enthusiasts for specialized items like cameras, vintage toys or art tend to be more lucrative, but even then she keeps her margins reasonable. 

So, for somebody who does not eat, sleep or need heating, she is doing well for herself to a point where she can be very generous. Story archive and more photos on amnesiacbjd.moritzk.com

[amnesiacbjd]

🌶️Night 63: Aeila and Cle-O

Cle-O moves to sit on Aeila’s lap, but balances her weight on her thighs so that Aeila doesn’t have to bear it. Cle-O thinks about the logistics of giving herself a tongue while Aeila explores her disappointingly smooth and empty mouth cavity with her own. Cle-O’s hands get more explorative and follow the undulating skin ridges to places underneath Aeila’s tank top and shorts. Now, Aeila’s mouth occasionally pulls away from Cle-O’s to let out a passionate gasp or groan. Cle-O’s recent modifications make it so she can now intensely feel Aeila’s tentacles feeling up her own skin. But the sensation makes her think of something. Hating to interrupt this moment, she asks: “Do you want to help me with an experiment?” - “Anything.” responds Aeila, just opening her eyes, half in a trance. 

Cle-O moves to get up, but Aeila grabs her hand, wanting this moment to continue and follows her. From a closet, filled to the brim with materials that Aeila can’t even begin to enumerate, Cle-O pulls out a number of sticky electrodes with thin cables attached. From another shelf, she pulls a small control unit. She closes the closet again. Aeila is standing right behind her, a hand on Cle-O’s hip. Cle-O turns and grabs that hand. “I don’t really know how to put this into words that don’t sound creepy, but… do you want to help me calibrate my new… parts?” - “Ooh, kinky. Let’s do it!” responds Aeila. Still holding Aeila’s hand in one and the equipment in the other hand, Cle-O leads on towards the bedroom.

Cle-O is about to ask, but Aeila is already taking her top off. She straps the small control unit on Aeila’s shoulder and is holding the electrodes in one hand. “Okay, this doesn’t have to be super precise, but there’s a few spots that I need to stick these on.” Aeila stands still but is visibly moved by euphoria and anticipation. Cle-O moves carefully around her and quietly says “Here…” as she softly puts an electrode on Aeila’s left temple. “Here…” on the other temple. Cle-O’s softness triggers Aeila’s ASMR on top of the growing warmth and heaviness in her lower belly she lets out a heavy sigh. “Here…” on the sternum. “And one more.” She kneels down in front of Aeila, looks up to see if Aeila is OK with this, pulls down first her shorts so they fall around her ankles and then pulls down her panties, but only about three inches, but stops there. “Oh, you tease!” Aeila groans. “Aaand here!” Cle-O places the last electrode halfway between where Aeila’s belly button would be if she had one and her pubic bone. Right where there’s a line marked by her panties. “Okay,” Cle-O stands back up, now face to face with Aeila. “now one more quick calibration.” Cle-O raises her hand with her index finger stretched out, slowly approaches Aeila’s nose and goes “Boop” as she touches it. She can’t even get out “All done!” Before Aeila practically rips off her own panties and pushes the heavy robot Cle-O onto the bed.

With eager determination, she straddles one of Cle-O’s thighs and rubs her pelvis on it with a force that surprises Cle-O. Aeila lets out an animalistic growl. Cle-O is still mostly clothed, but Aeila needs to get a few humps in, before she can think clearly enough to do something about it. Cle-O does her best to caress Aeila’s thighs, but mostly just lays there for the moment, taking in the sensations flooding into her through the electrodes. Now Aeila’s at a point where she can use a break, coming back to her senses a little bit. Curiously, she pushes up Cle-O’s skirt to see what she’s working with. At the same time, Cle-O takes off her top. Aeila has now pushed up the skirt so she can clearly see Cle-O’s mound under her black panties. She takes a firm grab with her thumb where she expects the most sensitive area and indeed the amount of give she feels there seems “realistic” to her. She pulls the fabric to the side to get a look. She is intrigued by what she sees, even though it’s still smoother and more plasticy than hers. Cle-O chimes in: “I think, we’ll get more out of it once I’ve properly calibrated it.” - “Oh in that case…” Aeila sits back and takes off the bra that she is still wearing “Go right ahead”.

Now Aeila lays there, watching as Cle-O approaches on all fours like a panther. She starts kissing Aeila while seemingly exploring her entire upper body inch by inch with her delicate, mechanical hands. Aeila’s gills are a curiosity for Cle-O as well. First, she feels the edge of each pair carefully, tickling those rubbery frills until Aeila lets out a little chuckle. Then, Cle-O inserts a little finger as cautiously as she can. Aeila flatly states: “That’s basically a nostril.” and Cle-O quickly moves on to more pleasurable body parts. She moves her smooth, porcelain lips away from Aeila’s over to her jawline, down her neck, across her clavicles and down to her breasts. All of those sensations are simultaneously felt by both of them. Whenever Aeila shudders, so does Cle-O, though she tones it down a bit so as to not freak out Aeila. Now Cle-O’s mouth is wandering further south, massaging Aeila’s lower abdomen and scribing a playful circle around the electrode there. “Most interesting data!” Cle-O affects in a squeaky, nerdy voice and Aeila rips off Cle-O’s hair band and pushes her face away in an “oh, you…” kind of motion (she doesn’t let on that that turned her on even more). Now, with her hair looking a bit wilder, Cle-O approaches the target from the other side. She starts kissing some toe tentacles and makes her way up the inside of Aeila’s leg. By the time, Cle-O reaches the upper thigh, Aeila is breathing so heavily that she thinks she could die if this got any more intense. 

When Cle-O’s lips finally push into her mound, the sensation makes her grab the bedsheet hard with all of her hands and feet and her chin shoots up, pressing the top of her head hard into the mattress. In this moment, she is so tense that she doesn’t make a sound but instead Cle-O lets out an involuntary “Uuuuuh.” She feels the vibration of Cle-O’s voice against herself. Then she sucks in air sharply and grabs hold of Cle-O’s hair, rubbing herself against her face. After a few moments, Cle-O is eager to explore Aeila manually. She starts out tracing every fold with one careful finger and then curiously inserts that same finger as Aeila takes another deep breath. The fidelity of their unusual connection gets more delicate by the second. Cle-O seems to be able to perfectly anticipate the waves of sensitivity within Aeila, pushing hard and massaging softly in just the right moments, better than Aeila could ever do when she was by herself. Following her curiosity further, Cle-O moves her finger down a bit, circling Aeila’s sphincter, but quickly stops after getting the response: “I don’t really like that.”

Aeila now lays almost completely still on her back with Cle-O sitting between her legs. One warmed hand resting on Aeila’s lower belly and the other stimulating her with uncanny, but immensely pleasurable precision inside and out. Aeila now lets out the occasional high pitched wince as she nears climax. Cle-O speeding up and slowing down as needed. Finally, Aeila comes harder than she can remember, pushing her pelvis up while her skin produces the wildest patterns. Cle-O has her head tilted back, instantly translating all of this data into ecstasy as she receives it. But diligently, she continues massaging Aeila until she’s fully had enough. While Aeila’s breath starts to slow down, Cle-O lies down next to her, softly stroking her all over and Aeila touches Cle-O’s slippery face, immensely thankful. Both of them are thinking about cheeky one-liners about this “experiment” but keep them in, out of respect for the moment. 

About ten minutes later, Cle-O removes the electrodes. Aeila positively goes to town on Cle-O, trying to give back at least a fraction of what she has just received. On top of making use of Cle-O’s brand new, freshly calibrated tender bits, Aeila blows Cle-O’s mind with what her tentacles can do. They go back and forth like that until Aeila cannot move anymore. 

[amnesiacbjd]

I am just thinking about the Saccoria show planned for friday when Sarah and the band’s bassist show up the exact moment I’m about to go on a lunch break. “You gotta help us! Something's wrong with my amp and I think the Lavoro’s PA system, too. I think they’ll bill us if we can’t figure this out.” - “That smells like another set of free tickets.” I reply. “Whatever. Just please have a look when you’re done here, alright?” And there goes my night. What happens at Cle-O’s later that day I piece together from independent retellings from both Aeila and Cle-O.

We sometimes spend our days and nights apart, but Aeila has never been at Cle-O’s without me. There’s the usual, small clique that has formed around my coworkers, Aeila’s coworkers, and some of Skipper’s friends. Sometimes some of the band members show up, but I feel like they get bored of our takes since the usual crowd skews a little older. It’s rarely more than 9 people in Cle-O’s “compound” as we have come to call it. So it’s not awkward for Aeila to show up alone. She has a good time watching the next installation of a music documentary series that Cle-O has going on. The others have something else planned for the night, but Aeila and Cle-O spontaneously use the opportunity for a one-on-one that they'd never had before.

“I confess I’m a little high,” says Aeila “but I’m at the right level to talk for hours and hours. And you…” she points “...you don’t get tired, so you know I’ll make you dish, skank.” Cle-O projects annoyance at that last comment. “Okay, okay, I’ll dial it back. But I appreciate your realness about everything.” - “Same! I feel like given our dispositions,” Cle-O makes a general gesture with one hand waving at herself and the other at Aeila “we should want to keep more secrets, but you also have always been honest with me, and that feels refreshing.” - “Maybe it’s the amnesia that puts us all at the same level. You can’t keep secrets if you don’t remember any.” Theorizes Aeila. “Yes, combined with the fact that we’re trying to remember the world before. Talking to people has become so important!” responds Cle-O.

They talk a little bit about life in the city, their favorite places, shops and denizens. “I feel like we should play Truth or Dare or something.” Suggests Aeila but Cle-O replies: “I don’t remember ever playing it, but somehow the thought makes me nervous. How about you just ask me… you know, in the spirit of honesty.” - “Please stop me if this goes to far… but: you always put on that ultra seductive vibe and I’m not quite sure how to deal with that. It’s clearly working on him.” Her eyes dart to the general direction of our apartment. “Part of me wonders ‘why?’ and another part is happy for your sense of self expression and…” Cle-O is not put off, but rather turns to Aeila, prepared for even more real talk. Aeila is encouraged to finish her thought “and another part of me wonders what it’s like to… be with you.” - “To answer the first part briefly” responds Cle-O “It’s like an… experiment to me? I want to push some boundaries, but… by no means do I want to hurt anyone. It sounds cheesy, but ‘I wanna know what love is…’” she softly sings that last line. Aeila’s eyebrows furrow and her eyes go up and left as she ponders that for a second. Cle-O continues. “To answer the second part: I dare you to kiss me.”

Aeila had considered this moment, even anticipated it but now that it’s  here, it still makes her blush hard. Not only that, but the pigments in her octopus complexion start dancing around as well. In turn, this surprises Cle-O. “Oh wow! C… can I touch?” She says, leaning close. This only accelerates the spectacle. “Yah, sure.” Responds Aeila, trying to be cool, but you can hear her heartbeat in her voice. Cle-O moves from her chair to the couch right next to where Aeila is sitting. First, she runs the outside of her middle and ring finger in a half-closed fist along Aeila’s jawbone where there’s a visible pigment deposit. Aeila does not move except for her eyes focusing on the robot hand. Cle-O’s fingers are sensitive enough to feel the subtle variations in skin density that are happening there, along with a visible color shift. Then Cle-O sees an interesting spot on Aeila’s Shoulder where a more pronounced pattern is appearing and runs her full palm down her upper arm. “Wooow.” mutters Cle-O. Aeila shudders and in the moment that Cle-O turns to face her, Aeila plants her mouth on Cle-O’s. For a moment the both of them seem frozen, as Aeila tries to find purchase on Cle-O’s porcelain lips, but then all four of their arms wrap around each other and they pull each other closer.

Read on in 🌶️Night 63. I beg of you!

[amnesiacbjd]

Day 61: Assembly

CW: Disassembled humanoid anatomy

On the final day of this sprint, the both of them remove their new parts from their molds and  apply their modifications. At around 10 AM, A-Va and Cle-O go behind a curtain that looks almost like something you might find at a hospital. Cle-O still doesn’t want me to see her modifications, but I see the old parts hitting the floor. It looks quite eerie, seeing the hollow shape of her butt and a bisected chest shape slump together on the floor of this workshop. I can make out the outline of A-Va going to work on Cle-O’s chassis and at times I see the outline of limbs distended in ways that make me shudder. Eventually, I see (and hear) new parts being applied, but I wait patiently, not spoiling any surprise that is intended for later. Ever the performer, in an unexpected moment, Cle-O wipes the curtain away with a grandiose movement. Of course she is wearing a hospital gown so I don’t really see much. “Just you waiiiit!” She teases. “I’ll have to break this in a little bit. Then I’ll show you.” and I hear a conspirative smile on her voice. As she walks around I believe I see shapes move underneath that fabric in a way they have not moved before.

After Cle-O is done with her little test walk, she returns with sturdy overalls and her hair contained by a bandana, ready to work on A-Va, who is now getting strapped into a complicated and uncomfortable looking harness that hangs from the ceiling. Since the scene setting with the curtain was only for Cle-O, I now get to witness A-Va’s procedure in all of its gritty detail. Cle-O begins by carefully removing the shell. She does so with such dexterity that it’s hard to follow. I don’t see her removing any screws, but instead the shell parts seem to be interlocked by clever mechanisms that are easily slid apart if you undo some subtle but sturdy latches and know the right points to apply pressure to. Her head, arms and lower legs remain as they were, but everything else is stripped. She is suspended by her shoulders and can still move her limbs and head. She looks around at me and Cle-O as if nothing is happening and I can see bowden tubes and artificial muscles pulling taut as she does it. 

I am now looking at A-Va’s chassis that has some atmospheric dust and a dark patina on it, dulling and blending everything together. The reactor unit is exposed but still self-contained in its sturdy radiation shield. After Cle-O gives everything a quick cleaning, I can see definition in A-Va’s interior. Things look neatly organized and efficiently stacked together. This sight was not meant for humans to understand, let alone maintain. Rather, it’s the result of an entirely parallel evolution.

The first part of A-Va’s modifications is to widen her hips in order to A) have a more stable stance along with more capable bearings and B) To fit A-Va’s new, rechargeable power source in this additional pocket for a lower center of gravity. A-Va’s “Old” pelvis is a massive part. I watch with my knees pulled up to my chest as Cle-O disconnects tendons and applies force to A-Va’s “femurs” like a karate exercise, popping them out of their hip sockets and hanging her legs up right next to A-Va with some of the wiring still attached. I do my best to disassociate robot anatomy from that of humans as I continue watching. 

Now, Cle-O undoes the complicated attachment of the pelvis from the bottom of the spine and catches the organically shaped metal part as it drops off. “You wanna freak him out, A-Va?” Asks Cle-O. “Show him!” A-Va looks at me to see if I’m ready for the next bit and I must look like I am. She shows me how she can wiggle the end of her spine and I recoil a little bit, but can’t look away. “Freaky, huh?” Cle-O punctuates.

She now approaches with a similar but heavily modified version of the pelvis she just removed. It looks to be at least two or three inches wider and contains more electronics than the previous part. The majority is taken up by what looks to be a battery compartment and a control mechanism which I assume is for power management and charging. She first connects the mechanical linkage. “Now, I’ll have to connect this cell to the rest of the power grid. The main controller doesn’t like fluctuations, so this is one of the critical moments.” I don’t know if A-Va does this for me or for herself, but she says “Can you hold my hand?” I’m a little perplexed, but I stand up with no delay, posting up by her right side and taking her hand with both of mine. 

Cle-O reveals a port on her sternum, connects a thick cable from A-Va’s “ribs” to it, gets into position and counts down for me: “Three, two, one, go!” Then her hands move so quickly that I can hardly follow. First, she splices the new circuit into the existing one. There are no status lights on any of A-Va’s parts so I assume part of the reason for the connecting cable is direct, uncompressed diagnostics for Cle-O. Here and there, Cle-O pauses for fractions of seconds, waiting for telemetry. Then finally a pause of a few seconds. “Ok, that’s calibrated. Now on to the interesting part. If anything were to go wrong, then it would be this.” My eyes go wide and I glance back and forth between Cle-O’s and A-Va’s faces which seem unphased. “We’ve run a number of tests and simulations. The chances for failure are low.” is what A-Va says to calm me down, and her grip tightens a little bit.

With the thick linking cable still attached, A-Va is lowered a bit until her chest is at level with Cle-O’s. “There’s mechanisms in place to prevent us from tampering with the generator, but we’ve augmented my… firmware? To deal with this next part.” Describes A-Va. “Of course, there’s no precedent for this, so we’re pioneers!” Intonates Cle-O. “Don’t be alarmed.” Says A-Va and now her body goes limp. Her head lolls forward and her other arm dangles down. I am now holding the entire weight of A-Va’s lifeless arm by her hand. For show, Cle-O shakes out her fingers and emits a sound like she’s taking a deep breath. “Three, two, one, go!” She carefully slides out the reactor array until its connections are revealed. There are two massive power rails and a number of smaller connections. She uses some impressive clamps to connect the power rails to a scary looking array of vintage looking gear on a rolling table next to A-Va and then splices some of the smaller cables into another temporary control unit suspended from the same harness A-Va is. There is a small, extra controller that she attaches only to the generator. Lastly, she switches on the old equipment and it starts to hum.

She now places both of her hands carefully and firmly around the reactor and lowers her head, as if waiting for the right moment. A few silent seconds go by and I’m wondering if everything is OK, when suddenly Cle-O yanks the entire reactor off of A-Va’s chest with tremendous but measured force. A-Va’s body dangles lifelessly and Cle-O is essentially standing there with her heart in her hands. The high-voltage gear’s hum increases in pitch but then quickly normalizes again. She stands there a few more seconds, as if listening to this “heart”. “It seems stable! Good news, this bomb is not going off anytime soon!” Cle-O holds up the disconnected reactor to my face. Part of me only now realizes the tremendous energy within that assembly. Cle-O disconnects the link cable and sets down the reactor in a crate she had prepared. Then she grabs A-Va’s other hand. “Wake up, sleeping beauty!” Cle-O sings. Then, a small jolt goes through A-Va and I feel life returning to her. “Hey, it worked!” She exclaims, weakly. “I feel so light!” There is now a considerable cavity inside A-Va’s chest where the reactor used to be.

The rest of the day feels less tense. Cle-O tidies up A-Va’s insides and together they apply A-Va’s new parts. First, her legs are re-socketed with new bearings and cushions, then Cle-O fits a sound amplifier and a nice speaker inside A-Va’s chest hole. After the internals are complete, the improved exterior gets attached, starting with the most flexible components and ending with the harder shell. A-Va still looks distinctly femme, but with a reduced chest compared to before and overall more streamlined and lithe. As she gets detached from the harness, she shakes out her limbs and performs a few explorative hops. “Yes! Exactly as I envisioned.” She enthuses in a more resonant voice, but still recognizably hers. Cle-O admonishes her: “Take it easy for about 84 hours. There are a few joints that still need to cure, remember?” There is a youthful vigour that I’m not used to from A-Va, who is usually focused and serious. Cle-O hands her a rugged suitcase modified as a charging device. “And you’ll have to hang on to this from now on.”

[amnesiacbjd]

Days 56 - 60: Mod Workshop

It’s not that the robot ladies need anyone’s approval or even more time to think things over. Over the course of the next few days A-Va and Cle-O get going in the workshop section of Cle-O’s compound. Naturally they have already laid out the decision tree inside the portion of their minds that they are sharing for this project, practically invisible to anyone else (at least us organics). During my free time I stop by to watch them and the both of them patiently explain their progress to me, depending on who is free to chat.

They start out with material science, meaning a batch of small tests of whatever materials they can source. The workshop is at times so filled with vapors from compound fiberglass and carbon lattices in various resins, epoxies and silicones that it is hard to breathe. While these materials cure, A-Va exposes her shell to Cle-O for careful experiments concerning her power supply and her reactor. The difficulty seems to be a core power bus that needs to be kept at an exact voltage along with a self contained reactor unit that appears to have a mind of its own. There seems to be some buffer between A-Va’s memories and the main cycle (making it less likely for her to lose her personality in this procedure) but the issue is that there’s no precedent (that we know of) for how to replace the main power source or if that’s even possible. In other words: Anything could happen.

On the second day, some of the material tests have finished curing and mechanical tests can be conducted. A-Va asks me for some tools from my workshop to hit these wild looking parts with. Cle-O gives it everything she’s got and it looks as terrifying as it is hot. Eventually, particles go flying but she looks at me as if the test is successful. 

Cle-O’s experiments involve a variety of organically shaped silicone pieces infused with sensors and actuators and she has prepared a little separée as if she doesn’t want me to see what she’s working on. The work continues past the next movie night. Cle-O spends the afternoon airing out the place but when we get together for dinner, there are still workpieces standing outside and the workshop smells of resin, albeit not as extreme as the days before.

When A-Va and Cle-O finally agree on the compound materials they will be using, they start making molds. It’s fascinating to watch them. Even though they mostly use tools that a craftsperson or an artist would use, they move with such precision that it’s like watching  CNC machines at work. They must have precise plans in their heads that they are now meticulously implementing. I watch for hours as A-Va carefully lays down one layer of fine webbing after another into the toxic goo to make strong new parts for herself. Over there, Cle-O is pouring the perfect stream of evacuated silicone so that bubbles don’t even have a chance to form. Once there’s only waiting to do, they switch their focused demeanor at a moment's notice and tell me about their progress with childlike enthusiasm.

[amnesiacbjd]

Day 54

A-Va meets Cle-O

We now have a way to announce ourselves before showing up at Cle-O’s, though I get the feeling that she doesn’t even mind unannounced visits. Aeila and I bring along my co-worker Esther, her significant other and A-Va. We learn that her and Cle-O have been exchanging their signatures and their general interests remotely (as robots do) but have never met face to face.

Both of them being curious types, they seem to enjoy conversing the human way for a change. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I find it quaint to give ideas the time to formulate them into speech and then to appreciate others’ ideas enough to wait for them to finish talking.” Says Cle-O and A-Va nods along. “Of course, we can still simultaneously talk behind your guys’ backs.” she says, turning theatrically to face A-Va, putting index and middle finger of each hand to her temples like a cartoon psychic. A-Va lets out an equally theatrical guffaw after a dramatic pause. Us organics look at each other, amused but wondering what it was that they just exchanged. 

The fixed program point of the night is the movie “Metropolis”, which rings a bell for all of us but only Ester’s boyfriend had seen it in full, as far as he remembers. Cle-O proudly holds up a copy with footage that had only semi-recently been added. We watch it digitally because even if she had it on reels, the sound of the projector would indeed make it hard to talk over the movie, which we do respectfully. Esther has brought pot brownies but we decide to save them for after the movie. She cracks the container about 20 minutes before the movie ends, planning for them to kick in after, and us other organics join her. We joke that Cle-O should make another knob for THC and she agrees to the principle a bit too quickly (she saves this experiment for another day).

After the movie we have a good buzz going and we get philosophical. At length we listen to each other’s amnesia story and then try to figure out the similarities. We philosophize about how robots went through the amnesia and why. We muse about how Cle-O might have always been this fashionable and how she dominated the robot dating pool. We witness that A-Va and Cle-O humor each other talking in the human language even when they don’t need to. The two of them hit it off big time.

They discuss modifications that they would like to do. At first, it starts a bit humorous and Aeila and Esther pitch in their ideas, but after a few moments the robots discuss their plans in great detail: A-Va wants to be more streamlined and have access to better mobility. The speaker system she has tastefully attached to herself she wants to exchange for an internal voice like Cle-O has. Finally, she wants a reactor that can be recharged. Now almost all of us are silent. 

We hang on A-Va’s words as she describes the way she wants to change. For humans, those would be major cosmetic procedures akin to top surgery. On top of that, A-Va had explained to me a while ago that her reactor can’t be easily removed without endangering her continued existence, let alone her personality. Even Cle-O looks a bit worried. She diffuses the situation a bit, framing A-Va with her hands in L-Shapes “I can imagine it already. You would be a sleek flash of silver.” Then she takes over, looking down at herself “Moving the reactor would indeed free up some space for, ahem… a more human anatomy. There’s a few things I haven’t got to experience yet.” Her gaze goes to me just long enough for my cheeks to flush. But as I glance around, it seems that everyone here needs a second to chew on that thought. To put a point to it, she does the psychic fingers again and A-Va assumes a shocked pose with her hand on her mouth. “And there’s a few more corners that could be rounded off. Yeah, I guess that’s my goal. A bit selfish and vain, maybe, but I want to push the boundaries. I like looking like a robot, but I like the idea of being the hottest one there is.”

The rest of us don’t really know what to make of that much less how to comment on Cle-O’s ideas. It’s not about her “not having the right” or anything, but her casual attitude about these intimate details catch us off guard. I think we all appreciate her openness and honesty, but it does indeed feel a tiny bit vain and insensitive to me. Then again, if I could change my body on a whim, wouldn’t I? On my way home Aeila and I discuss our takes while our buzz turns into heavy sleepiness.

[amnesiacbjd]

Day 53: Aeila meets Cle-O

I realize that I never asked for a way to contact Cle-O. One night, after work Aeila and I decide to go over there to introduce ourselves. We are about to put together a basket of treats before we realize: “She doesn’t eat!” So instead we pass by an antiques store and each pick out something nice but cheap for Cle-O.

She must have sensed us coming, because when we are still about two hundred feet down the path she steps out into a square of warm lighting in the cool evening ambience, waving at us. “Oh. I get it.” Aeila says quietly to me without moving her lips. 

Cle-O is wearing something more formal: a dark blue dress with a rough but pleasant texture. She greets us with a hug, which is both charming and weird at the same time, then she accepts our gifts with joy. She freezes for a second, turns her head towards the living room and within seconds has found the perfect place for each of our souvenirs. “Let me give you a tour!” spouts Cle-O. When we get to the beautiful bedroom and Cle-O has her back turned on us, Aeila wordlessly mouths “I. Get. It.” with a theatrical exaggeration.

“I haven’t expected you, but I can whip you up some pasta if you want.” - “Oh we don’t want to be a burden…” I regret it instantly, but I try to stop Aeila with my elbow and get a dirty look in response. Cle-O disarms the situation: “No, I’d love to. Don’t worry about it. I’ve been wanting to crack some wine for you, too.” Fusilli with pesto doesn’t sound like much, but you should try it like Cle-O makes it. “My face tingles.” Says Aeila. Is that normal? “Yeah, I think it’s the parmesan. It’s not tart, it’s not spicy, what is it? Man, that was good.” 

Bless Aeila for her initiative, but after nearly one generous glass of wine she just comes right out with it: “So on the first date huh? I mean I GET it, but… that’s weird right?” She directs the last part at me. I open my mouth, trying to find the words. “For what it’s worth, he cherishes you.” interrupts Cle-O. “I don’t know if he told you, but it’s like I’m made for body language: he does.” I’m thankful for her eloquence but I also wish I could have said that myself. My face is red and hot. “I din’t want to jinx it.” I sheepishly confess to Aeila. I now feel the wine doing its thing on me. She looks back, touched. Cle-O continues “And I wanted to meet the person he was thinking about.” A moment until Aeila shakes her head as if trying to shake off the onset of tears, finishes her glass, takes a breath, then “No, you know what. It’s cool. Honestly I’m just happy to have someone to hang out with who’s so…worldl… is ‘worldly’ the right word?” She gesticulates with her glass and we all let out a relieved chuckle. 

Cle-O obviously can’t drink wine, but she has her own glass which she swirls it in front of her face. “I can still smell it, you know? It smells like fermentation, but a very attentive one.” “Well put.” Aeila answers. “I wish you could get drunk.” Cle-O freezes. “I have an idea!” She gets up with a speed that does not match the vibe of the moment, jogs to a more rustic part of the compound and emerges 20 seconds later holding what just looks like a large knob for some kind of computer peripheral. “I have mapped a drunkenness-modifier for me to this knob. You can turn it to how drunk you are feeling and I can join you!” Aeila and me are equally amused and touched. “You would trust us with that?” I ask. Aeila has a playful malice on her face and starts slowly turning up the knob, focusing on Cle-O, who visibly starts slumping in her chair. By the time the knob is at about 70% Cle-O looks so pitiful that Aeila’s face sinks and she is immediately sorry she played with it. She quickly turns it back and almost tosses it to me. “Needless to say: Please adjust it slowly.” Cle-O grumbles, sitting back up, adjusting her dress. The mood takes a few minutes to recover, but we bond quite a bit over the course of the evening with the knob keeping us at the same level.

[amnesiacbjd]

Day 52: Aeila learns of Cle-O

Another work day passes where I weigh the pros and cons of telling Aeila about my time with Cle-O. Aeila does not work far away. Her detachment has vouched for her aptitude for analytical work and she helps out in a civil service office that as far as I know does zoning for restaurants and other semi-public offerings like that. She’s only allowed to tell me about projects after they’re complete and she just started, so…

We meet up during lunch break. We find a corner that is not easy to overhear. “Listen, there’s something I need to tell you.” I say. “Hm. So you heard about me and Specialist Nunan. Huh.” she sighs. “What?” I respond. Both our eyes go wide and she says: “Oh, instant Karma. You hooked up with someone else too, didn’t you? I thought I saw something in your eyes on wednesday.” There’s a weird whirlpool of feelings all at the same time: guilt, relief and jealousy. The latter is the smallest, though I do wonder about Specialist Nunan. “Yeah. Her name is Cle-O, she’s a robot.” Her eyes go even wider. “Okay, I’ll tell you about mine in a second. But a robot? I mean, how?” I blush “She has very dexterous hands. I’ll leave it at that.” She laughs so hard that I get even more embarrassed. But then we calm down and she tells me about explorative Specialist Nunan in conspirative, hushed tones. “You need to meet her though. She wants to meet you.” - “You told her about me already? Now I am getting kinda mad. But… more intrigued. ‘Mad but curious’.” She thinks out loud.

[amnesiacbjd]

Day 51: Taking Inventory

Birds wake me. Aeila is still drooling on my mattress, covers and pillows pushed away. The sunlight is warming the tips of her toe tentacles making them look nearly transparent. I get breakfast ready of the things that she would always loot first when we would find food “in the wild”. While I nibble on an apple, waiting for her to wake up, I stare out of the window, thinking about my place in this weird world and the town in general.

All in all, nobody here seems to be rich, but we don’t need much anyway. The city doesn’t bother us much if we complete our modest tasks and a lot of us have found fun or lucrative hustles on top of that. The robot’s generous contributions to the community means that we now have a considerable amount of leisure. There is criminality in this town. And of course it would have a tendency to appear more often near the social housing, but the people around me aren’t affected by it on a daily basis. “When should I tell her about Cle-O” creeps back to the forefront of my mind.

I am halfway through the checkboxes on my “emancipation roadmap” and I see another one peeking out of Aeila’s bag. There doesn’t seem to be anyone pushing me to complete the rest, but I am making steady progress anyway. I am starting to think about what I could do afterwards. Should I open my own repair shop? Would that keep me above water? I think about A-Va, Cle-O and Aeila and I feel like I don’t need to worry about all that other stuff.

The smell of coffee wakes Aeila and we take our time with whatever I can put on the breakfast table.

After work, we have a great day talking of less depressing topics. Selfishly, I enjoy Aeila becoming happier again. She is almost as warm as she was before she left. Today, Aeila has been allotted a workplace and her own apartment. It looks almost exactly like mine and is in fact located two floors above mine and one door down. She can easily throw uncooked macaroni onto my little balcony.

[amnesiacbjd]

Night 50: Welcome Back🌶️

At 1 AM I wake up in the dark to tentacles tickling my face. “I’ve missed you.” are the words I make out as I come to. She sounds as sleepy as me and she lazily slides on top of me.

She kisses my chest and rubs her belly on my pelvis and it doesn’t take long before there’s the distinct hot heaviness in my crotch and my heart goes from almost zero to beating so hard that it almost hurts. Aeila undoes her and my pajama shorts just enough so she can slide my tip inside her. Her top is still on. She continues to slide her belly up and down on mine, hardly moving anything else. I adjust a little bit so she can get it deeper. Her cheek is rubbing on mine and I hear each belabored breath right in my ear. A tentacle rests on top of my head.

That smell that I didn’t realize that I missed now envelops me again. Her warmth and pressure on me and my cotton-like, sleepy head make it feel a little bit unreal but I’m pent up enough so it doesn’t take long before her gyrations make me pop with a shudder. A sticky mess spreads out between our bellies. We’re both too tired to clean it and she just slides off of me again. She takes one of my hands and uses it to finish herself off, lying on her back right next to me with her head on my shoulder. “I’ve missed you too.” I answer when she lets go, but she might already be asleep again. It’s warm enough so we can just lie there like this. My hand remains on her belly for a bit and hers on my chest. Feeling her breath slows down my heartbeat and I fall back asleep.

[amnesiacbjd]

Day 50

Aeila back from the Island

Aeila returns! However, she does not come with much satisfying news. The military installations that she remembers must have either been fully destroyed or disassembled after the war. They found and investigated other buildings that she had described but there was no trace of the Octopeople army to be found. This must have irritated the delegation to a degree that led them to accuse her of misinformation. Her permanent honesty and cooperation saved her from being detained.

I think the reason for them allowing her to go free now is that she went out of her way to make the trip to the island worth it. She was instrumental in cataloguing the places that were destroyed. The major attacks were recorded in suburban areas, mostly located on streets in densely populated areas. There must have been an effort to destroy infrastructure, not attack any inhabitants directly. There is also a large number of destroyed warehouses, factories and other places where robots might have worked. Her theory: was this an attack directed towards the robot population? They found a number of robot body parts near those craters that might hint to this explanation. Thankfully, they found only one human casualty.

My encounters with Cle-O weigh heavy on my mind. I feel like I can tell Aeila about her, but I don’t want to burden her any more at this point. We talk until late at night about her war theories and the official story. Talk of exodus and destruction leaves us sad and unmotivated. I let her sleep on my mattress and make my way to the couch. She waves me towards her and I take the couch cushions and make a makeshift bed next to hers. We murmur off and on for another 20 minutes, staring at the ceiling until Aeila passes out and I follow shortly after.

[amnesiacbjd]

Day 49: Tell of the War

Trying to think of something other than Cle-O I run some errands. I get to talk to an old timer who comes from further inland. The amnesia has only partially affected his neighbors and only those who were outdoors that night. He tells me that the people on the island would usually stick to themselves and be proud of their self sufficiency. He scoffs at that because then he tells me that of course they would still import tons of stuff from groceries to toiletries, so they couldn’t have been that independent. When I ask him what he knows of the war he says that it must have been over quick. He describes that there was an unusual number of people, visiting their relatives here or making their way into the mainland on the days before. Then one day it sounded faintly like only two bombing runs and then the amnesia hit that night. No more battle sounds.

He also mentions that the islanders were talking about building a tech utopia, but he did not remember much because he said he was too old to understand that stuff. He was friendly enough but I assume he’s a bit dismissive about technology and was not eager to hear about what I assume was the presence of robots on the island. I think he is keenly aware of these new, mechanical arrivals to the mainland but I also feel an inherent dismissal. 

Whenever I have talked to other mainlanders before, they seem to have heard of the robots from the island but have only ever heard tell of them (with either impossibly high praise or damning objection) and have had no chance to figure them out for themselves in person. Depending who I ask, the story about the exclusivity of the island changes. While older people are a bit dismissive, younger people say that the islanders were very interested in sharing their knowledge, only they probably did so on non-traditional media, where the last days before the amnesia must have been a bit tumultuous. 

Generally, people are very interested and with a positive attitude towards Octopeople. While next to nobody has actually seen one in person, the media must have done a good job to portrait their sudden appearance.

[amnesiacbjd]

There's a timelapse of me drawing this.

[amnesiacbjd]

New hair for Aeila

I don't know if you can even tell the difference, but I added a more prominent curl in order to break the symmetry and make her look less like an Asari. IYKYK